Harry Potter and the Ssier ehl Frohler
by hpSsisters
Summary: ON HIATUS. Harry Potter was too valuable to be intrusted into the less than adequate care of the humans. So, the elves took him, to save both an innocent child and the world. HPGW RWHG RLNT NLLL preootp
1. Prologue

"Speech"

"Elvin language"

_Thoughts_

_Thoughts in Elvin language_

PROLOGUE

No one saw the young-looking woman who was walking down the deceptively regular street of Privet Drive. The dawn had not yet broken, and the night seemed to stretch on in its darkness, a darkness unlit by feeble moonlight. She came to a stop outside a house just like all the others, and turned her eyes to the windows. No movement showed in the house, and, encouraged, she walked to the door. A wind swirled the scent of the season into the air as much as it swirled the leaves it picked up of the deserted road, and the woman basked in it. _Autumn is so refreshing after the years of eternal summer that I have experienced, though this feeling may have been influenced by my return tomorrow. _Her thoughts turned fondly to her home, which was now also experiencing fall. Shaking off her half-formed memories, she placed a tanned hand on the door. It swung inward without a sound.

Stepping in, she noticed that the inside of the house was almost sickeningly clean, and she eyed her dirty footprints amusedly. Making certain to take the longest and most twisting route possible, she headed towards the small doorknob poking from the immaculate wallpaper on the side of the staircase. Pulling it open, after spending nearly five minutes walking there, she peaked in almost comically on a small sleeping boy. Her features softened. So this was the boy she was to retrieve. _He looks like his father. _She thought tenderly. She knelt at the side of the sleeping child, his charcoal-haired head turned away from her. _How old is he now- five, six? How the years fly! _

Putting her hand on the child's back gently, she called his name.

"Harry," Her voice was sweet and motherly, and the word was softly spoken. The child woke all the same. He turned to face her, sleepily curious. His green eyes shown from his pale, thin face framed by hair mussed up adorably.

"Hello, Harry. Would you like to come away with me?"

Harry opened bleary green eyes, and wavering, as though seen through a heat wave, he saw what he thought was a woman beside him, looking down on him with a smile. Her hand was warm where it had slid to rest on his shoulder. _Is this a dream?_

"Would you like to come away with me?"

Yes, it was definitely a dream. Only in dreams did people ever actually come to take him away.

He nodded, too sleepy to be properly disappointed. The woman, however, smiled widely.

"Then go back to sleep, and when you wake up everything will be alright," He nodded again drowsily, and closed his eyes and drifted off into the land of dreams once more.

When Harry's eyes re-shut, the woman picked him up. She stepped out into the hall, ran her foot up the wall absent-mindedly to create a dirty smear, and disappeared with the boy. A piece of paper fluttered down to the ground behind her while the other occupants of the house slept on, ignorant.

Song echoed round and round in his mind. The tune was familiar, but the memory danced away before he could come close. Words known instinctively, though they were not in English, sang in a voice neither male nor female.

_Darkness hovers on the edge of sight_

_The sun falls_

_Night constricts as snake on prey_

_In the hour before dawn_

_The sun again defeats the darkness_

_Allowing day to arrive_

_Dusk has followed the day_

_And Night has fallen again on Earth_

_Call on the day to dispense of the shadow, _

_Phoenix, bird of flame, born of ashes and despair,_

_Guide the sun_

_Bring hope_

_To grant us light once more_

_Defeat the night truly_

_Make day forevermore_

"_Remember this, Harry Potter, for it is your past… and your future, should you so choose it."_

The Order of the Phoenix had looked everywhere for the young Harry Potter to find nothing. The point-me spell swiveled wildly in circles before pointing straight up. Tracking rituals came up with nothing at all. Owls circled around before going to rest back on the ground, confused. Houses of known ex-Death Eaters were searched inconspicuously to no avail. No one knew where the boy-who-lived was.

News as big as this could not be kept secret forever and soon it littered the newspapers, a picture of the Potter family with baby Harry headlined by titles like "POTTER CHILD KIDNAPPED" and "BOY-WHO-LIVED ABDUCTED" that caused a huge stir among the wizarding public. Howlers echoed through the halls of Hogwarts, and more than once was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore left with a scorched pile of documents on his desk. The search for the boy-who-lived intensified, but to no avail: The wizarding world (with the exception of a few lucky people) would see neither hide nor hair of him for almost nine years.

A letter rested on the Headmaster's desk, a letter that gave him hope that Harry Potter was at least alive.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_We have taken Harry Potter to a place where he may become ready for his destiny. _

_Do not worry for his safety, we will ensure that he is alive when he comes back. _

_Signed_

_The High Council of Seven_

_Rilla, Illyinwaya, Mechara, Ronak, Dirlexer, Axen and Rixen _

AN. Some changes made to chapter in terms of breaks, which took out. Also, letter fixed.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 

_7 Years Later _

Harry Potter pushed his black hair out of his eyes absent-mindedly as his teacher droned on about the laws of Goblin culture. Sunlight shone through the open window alluringly, illuminating a sloping hill that lead to the great gates separating the elfin city Aalyyra from the human world. They glowed like liquid in the bright sunlight, made of pure gold given to the elves by the goblins, who lived in the mountains around Aalyyra. Those same mountains were hazy purple against the bright blue sky, graying with distance. Pale flowers waved around the window in the captivating breeze that wafted their scent into the classroom.

Harry was distracted from his abstract daydreaming when the gates creaked open. He shot up, his professor also turning to observe the opened gate. Elves poured through it, among them a figure bound in the silvery-glinting living chains used to hold prisoners locked up. Harry hurried through the door, running down the hill to meet up with the group. They spotted him and placed their free hands over their hearts. All of them had a link to the chains in one hand, meaning that the prisoner was extremely dangerous. The living chains wound around the form of a young girl of about fourteen. Black hair cascaded silkily from her head, blocking her face from sight.

"Who is this?" He gestured towards the girl, speaking in elfish.

"An Assassin sent to kill you, prince." The leader said in a hoarse voice. Harry eyed the girl. She still hadn't raised her head, though the air she carried herself with was proud and not submissive in the least. The sheen in her hair was violet, and pointed ears poked out from the silky-straight strands.

"You did well to catch her." A deep voice said from behind him. Harry turned to see his friend, Kirk, behind him. He was several years older than Harry and several times thicker in the shoulders and chest. His dark brown hair was thickly covered by soot; he was one of Aalyyra's best smiths and kept busy by orders for swords and weapons along with other metal work. He smiled at Harry and ruffled his hair with a huge hand before turning back to see the girl.

"Fuck, she's an elf!" He exclaimed. At this, Harry saw the prisoner's lips quirk upward into a smirk, before settling back to a blank expression.

"If it comforts you any, I'm not a full-blood elf at all." This came from the prisoner, with an air of nonchalance.

"Then what the hell _are_ you?" The girl raised her head with a smirk. Slanted violet eyes rimmed by dark lashes, milky-white skin, full blood-red lips, and perfect features, she was beautifully inhuman and yet, not elfin either. A fang slipped over her lower lip to gleam in the sun, the ivory color at odds with her mouth.

"I'm an experiment." She said in a matter-of-fact voice as the Elves pulled her away. She went along with them, not struggling, but still looking intimidating despite that and her bound hands.

"Who is she?" Harry asked for the fifth time that night. The woman that had taken him from his relatives all those years ago walked beside him in the gardens, whose wafted fragrances went ignored by the impatient thirteen-year-old. The woman, Rilla, just shook her head.

"She won't say a word. We can't even get her name from her, only that she was ordered to do this, though by whom I have no clue."

"She said she was an experiment."

"She may very well be. Those humans are toying with things that shouldn't be played with. It wouldn't surprise me if they are now experimenting with themselves."

"But she was sent to kill me; she said so herself, and the humans don't know about us," Rilla shook her head, a frown marring her forehead.

"And that's where all of us are stumped." Rilla admitted with a sigh, referring to the rest of the Council, which she was a member of. They made the major decisions and laws until Harry ascended the throne. "If she was sent by the humans, than why does she have elfin blood? If she was sent by an elf, who? There are thousands of questions and the girl isn't answering any of them, just making more. It's so confusing!" She turned to Harry and smiled. "But we've talked enough about that. How were your lessons today?"

"Oh, um, they got interrupted, so I got to practice the rest of the afternoon." Harry admitted a little sheepishly. He loved to do weapons practice, but disliked his laws and history lessons. He had convinced his teacher to allow him to practice, instead of learn about the goblin legal system by saying he could no longer process it that day, which was true, but he had never exactly paid attention in the first place. Rilla laughed and ruffled his hair good-naturedly. He smoothed it and shot her a look. Why did everyone always seem inclined to ruffle his hair? He was thirteen, no longer a child. Rilla just smiled at him fondly, her own blue-green hair in a pony-tail at the nape of her neck. She pulled the teen to her side with a motherly arm around his shoulders.

"What am I going to do with you? Taller than me, skipping lessons to practice swordplay, and next thing you know, you'll be courting girls, left, right and center." She squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "It seems like just yesterday you were tall as my waist, and asking about _everything_," Harry blushed a little, remembering those days well. Though the times just before them were hazy, those days were as clear as the moon in the cloudless sky before him. He remembered only a horsy-faced woman with a shrill voice, a walrus-like man, and a fat blond pig (which must have been his cousin) as his relatives. He sighed, wishing he could remember his parents instead. Rilla picked up on his down turned thoughts and pressed a kiss to his forehead comfortingly.

"Come on, Harry, let's go home," The teen nodded and they headed off towards the small house they shared, under the waning moonlight.

"Please?"

"No, Harry, she was sent to kill you, it's too dangerous," Rilla sighed. It was a week later, and Harry wanted to go visit the girl to see if she would say anything to him to answer any of their questions.

"Please? We're a similar age, so she might answer me better," Harry turned his best puppy-dog face on her. Rilla turned away. She could never resist that face.

"Don't look at me like that! All right, but only once, and there has to be a guard there, okay?" Harry nodded.

"Let's go then," Rilla's sigh melted into a fond smile.

_He really knows me too well,_ She reflected amusedly as they went down the path closer to the prison where the still nameless girl was being kept. Looking towards the building, she sighed again. It was forbidding, though darkly beautiful. The guards at the entrance bowed their heads and placed their fists over their hearts when Harry approached, their other hands ready on the hilt of their swords. They entered the marble front hall, Harry looking around through the corner of his eyes at everything. The staircase that lead to the prisoner's room was at the back of the intimidating hall, giving the young prince plenty of time to examine the marble doorways guarded by goblins or elves with large weapons. They all placed their hands over their hearts as the two passed. Harry straightened his shoulders a little and raised his chin the slightest bit. Rilla smiled forlornly, thinking with no fondness on the days to come when he would have to rule over all these people as their king. _He seems so young… But I'll be there too, _she promised herself and him.

Up the dark staircase and down one hall was the prisoner's room. The Elf guarding the door was the same one that had lead the group that had captured the assassin a week ago, and he placed his hand over his heart before grinning at Harry. A pale scar ran across his left eye as a testimony of the battles he had fought. Harry grinned back at the tall figure despite himself.

"Can he go in?" Rilla gestured to the door. The Elf, who Rilla knew as Horlen, seemed to consider it.

"Sure. Can't hurt if I stay here though, eh?" He chuckled a little. Rilla nodded in relieved agreement. The Elf pulled a key from his pocket. The door clicked open when he pressed it into the indent at the center to reveal a dark, gloomy room with a single window set into the far wall. The light fell onto the form of the assassin, who was running her fingers through a strand of her hair repetitively. Her head was tilted back against the wall, her eyes on the window high above her. She remained focused on the window, even when Harry entered the room and stood uncertainly by the opposite wall.

"So, the Princeling has come to visit. You are here for information?" Her eyes still had not looked at Harry. Harry could see that the pupils were slit, like a cat's.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"You will not get it," She informed him. Silence stretched in the cell.

"Why did you try to assassinate me?" The ghost of a smirk flitted over her lips.

"Telling you would be disclosing information."

"But don't you think I have a right to know why someone tried to kill me?"

"We don't always get what we have a right to."

"It's different here, in Aalyyra."

This caught the assassin's attention. She finally looked at him, though her head did not turn. "Even Paradise has flaws. You will see that the outside world is not as righteous as Aalyyra." 

"Who says that I'll ever have to go to the outside world?" Harry challenged childishly.

"You are to be King, are you not?" The assassin raised her eyebrows with a slight smile. Blood rushed to his face and he turned slightly to hide his embarrassment. Of course, the King of all the Elves would have to be familiar with the human world, and the best way to become familiar was to visit. He went silent, pondering this, until the assassin spoke up.

"You wouldn't happen to be able to get me a comb and a clasp, would you? It would be much appreciated." She eyed her hair, which was so long that it pooled on the floor around her. An idea struck Harry.

"Sure, but," Harry continued slyly, "You have to tell me your name first." _I'll start small, and ask for something more each time. _

The assassin considered it, then nodded and sighed. A smirk settled on her features. "Sneaky, Princeling. Maybe you have some brain in you after all. But, I have to have the brush here first." Harry nodded, not thinking it such a horrible request. He walked out and closed the door behind him. Rilla and Horlen looked at him expectantly.

"She wants a comb and a clasp, and then I'll get something out of her." Horlen's eyes brightened and he grinned at Harry. "Right away, Prince!" He hurried away after pressing his hand to his heart.

Rilla looked troubled. "What information will she volunteer for hair supplies?"

Harry sighed. "Just her name, but it's a start, right?" He flicked a hopeful smile at his teal-haired guardian.

"Right."

"Here." Harry threw her the clasp and comb. She caught them almost before he could see her hand move and looked over them. They were good quality items, and Harry hoped that would help. Sensing his expectant stare, she turned her gaze onto him.

"They call me Moonblade, because of the blades I carry and this scar." She turned her head so that the side facing the wall was visible to Harry. A blue line in the shape of a crescent moon hung in the lower corner of her left eye, like a tattoo. "It's blue because the knife used to make it was imbued with poison when I was scarred. I believe that answers your question, and more."

"But it's not your name," Harry protested.

"That is a matter of opinion."

Sensing that she wasn't going to speak any more, Harry retreated and slammed the door behind him, in a bad temper. Rilla looked up expectantly as he approached.

"Well?" Horlen asked.

"She says they call her Moonblade, because of her swords and some weird scar she has, but won't tell me her real name."

"She'll come around," Rilla consoled. Harry simply glared at the closed cell door.

"Why did they send you?"

Harry was on one of his many visits to the cell where Moonblade was kept. He had asked fruitless question after fruitless question, but Moonblade had refused to answer. Horlen, the usual guard of the door, teased Harry often about having feelings for the silent assassin, but Harry merely shook his head. She was an exquisite creature, to be sure, but _if_ he had had any feelings for her in the first place, they would have been frozen by her cold attitude.

Like now, where she simply ignored him. He wasn't even sure if she had actually heard the question.

"Hello?" He called. Her eyes focused on him, her eyebrow cocked inquisitively. "Why did they send you?"

"Because I am the best assassin they have. _They_ want you dead pretty bad."

"How bad?" Who the hell were these people?

"Bad enough," She answered simply. "I was paid well enough as things go,"

"Who the hell would pay for _my _death? Besides the King stuff, I'm not important, and if you came form the human world, no one even knows of the elves there."

"Are you so certain?"

Harry sputtered. "Well of course I'm certain. I mean, the elves haven't had contact with the humans for centuries! Humans don't live that long, right?" he asked a little uncertainly.

"Not Naturally."

"What do you mean?"

"There are ways…" She hesitated. "But…"

The word hovered in the air like thick, sweet smoke.

"But what?" Harry asked eagerly. She usually didn't offer information straightforwardly.

"They do not want you for your kingship. There are plenty of potential replacements to be found in the nobility."

"Then why would they be desperate to kill me?" Harry lowered his voice. "I haven't been much of a threat to anybody."

A smirk flickered over her lips. "Ask your guardian, Rilla, I believe, for the story of your past, and you will see."

Confusion flared in Harry's mind. "What could I have done that would call for an assassination?"

"Ah, but it not just your past that they are looking at, Princeling; they also are taking a look into the future."

Dipping her quill in the sapphire-blue ink that was her signature color, Rilla overviewed her long overdue letter.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore; _

_You requested that I update you on Harry's well-being and progress since he has been in our care. I have finally found the time to grant this request, and I apologize for the late timing. Much has occurred in Aalyyra and Harry has turned thirteen recently, making this the seventh year he has been here. He has gained many friends among his classmates and some above him in age. His studies are proceeding well, but, unfortunately, he enjoys his physical and magical studies much more than his written studies. I find myself wondering if this is simply behavior typical of boys or if it is specific to elves. As you may not know, he is heir to the throne of Aalyyra through his mother's side, and as such, has been held in rather high esteem by his peers. Not to worry, however, as he detests this attention, and is in no danger of becoming arrogant. _

_On a related note, I must ask a favor of you for Harry's safety. An assassin has been sent from the human world, which was thankfully caught. However, we have no knowledge as to how humans came to know of the location of Harry when the elves keep a careful record of those with the knowledge of our existence. If you could look into it quietly, the favor would be much appreciated. _

_To a much happier subject (for you at least), Harry seems to be almost ready to go into the human world—not necessarily England, however. Unless something comes up, he should be in Hogwarts (If she will have him) by September 1994, in time for his fourth year. This news concludes my letter, and I wish you good fortunes. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Rilla _

_P.S. I have included several wizarding photos of Harry for you (and those you trust enough to tell) to enjoy. _

She opened the secret compartment of her desk and pulled out a stack of photos, — copies, of course, she couldn't bare to part with the originals, — placing them in the center of the letter. There were tons, most snapped when Harry wasn't looking, of the teen doing various things—running, fighting, studying, yawning, playing catch with Kirk, posing with an uncomfortable smile for the camera, much younger and yawning, a month after he had come and sleeping cuddled up with a blanket, standing and grinning beside Rilla in front of their home. The turquoise-headed elf idly wondered if she had been a bit excessive, before shrugging and putting it all in an envelope. The envelope bulged uncomfortably as she called her phoenix familiar, Mikanna, to bring it to the human world. Mikanna eyed the package funnily before glancing up at Rilla with the phoenix of the equivalent of a raised eyebrow before bursting away with a flash of light and the letter safely in her talons. She was back before Rilla could properly sit down, crooning a requested preening. Rilla relented with a roll of her eyes and Mikanna settled into her lap happily.

That was how Harry found them, curious and confused.

"Rilla?" Harry asked hesitantly, leaning against the doorframe uncertainly. She glanced up and gave him a warm smile.

"Back already?" She asked teasingly. He didn't respond, instead walked forward to sit at the chair in front of her desk. Rilla's smile drooped and she eyed him with concern.

"What's up?" Harry's face was confused and the tiniest bit accusing. The teal-haired elf found her heart slowing as the only reason for his expression dawned on her.

"What happened before I came here?" She had always been careful to avoid the subject of the past with Harry. _From my own cowardice,_ She thought bitterly as she was unable to meet his eyes.

It would almost be better if he was accusing her outright, then they could yell and get it over with, not this stilted silence as she found herself unable to even look at her charge.

A deep breath forced itself from the depths of her chest and turned itself into a sigh on the way out. _This is going to be a very long conversation. _

Then she looked at Harry, opened her mouth, and began.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 3

The light from the lightning slanted down through the barred window, illuminating the two silent figure in the cell. Both of its occupants were not inclined to talk, the assassin by nature, and Harry because he was deep in thought. His talk with Rilla had gone on for several hours, expanding from the past to the future. He hadn't been entirely sure what to think of the fact that she had lied to him when something so important was concerned, and his uncertainty hadn't lifted in the few hours since they had talked. In fact, it had almost seemed to multiply, his formerly solid world thrown off balance. He had always known he wasn't a full blooded elf, but to discover that both of his parents had been solidly human had shocked him. It had, however, amused him slightly later on that the Prince of Aalyyra was a changeling. He had been hard pressed not to rub it in the noses of those families who prided themselves on never having had a changeling in the bloodline, and had only restrained himself on the account that he was too shocked and contemplative on other parts of the conversation to play petty court word games with heirs twice his age and half his common sense. 

He had escaped to his private sanctuary (ironically, the prison cell of his attempted assassin) before too many of the council of Seven were up and trying to talk to him about what he had learned. What he had quickly learned was that the council of seven had lost interest in the assassin after she had proved to be completely silent, and as such, never checked in on her and only posted minimum guarding. She was not a high-priority prisoner anymore, and the raw recruits posted outside of the door paid little attention to the prisoner inside or her visitors. They had no clue who was in the cell with a deadly assassin, and Harry was both thankful for and appalled by this. The current guard, a boy lazing on the wall and reading a book who didn't look even a year out of training, hadn't even looked up at him as he entered the cell, whose key he had actually took off the recruit himself without him noticing. He mentally reminded himself to anonymously tip off the head of guard to this later, after this lax guard stopped being needed for a quick escape. 

A noise made him look up as the guard let off a snore. His eyes widened in disbelief. Scratch the earlier note, this guy was out of even consideration for becoming a warrior! He looked at "Moonblade" out of the corner of his eye and was stunned to find a genuine amused smile pulling at her lips for an instant. Then the moment was over, and her blank mask slipped back into place. An air of amusement seemed to linger about her, however, and perhaps this prompted her to speak. 

"He always does that," she said nonchalantly, looking out at the window. Harry turned to her, gaping in surprise at her actions and her words. She had spoken first, for perhaps the first and only time, as she now appeared to realize what she had done. Her face remained blank, but the amused air disappeared. 

"Then why haven't you escaped yet?" He asked incredulously. She gave him a deadpan look. 

"The door's still locked." 

"Oh."

Silence descended for a while. Harry seemed to always miss something obvious like that. He was deep in thought, trying to remember when else he had done like that, when he realized that his pocket was strangely light. He plunged his hands in his pocket when he realized what was missing; the keys he had filched from the guard. He looked up hurriedly and caught sight of the assassin unlocking the door calmly. She opened it and slipped out as he rose to his feet, a protest on his lips. She raised a finger to her lips, and glanced slyly at the guard. He stared at her, open mouthed, before she gestured to him to come. He remained frozen, until she hissed at him quietly. 

"Do you want me to lock you in?" He shook his head frantically and hurried out of the room after her. She closed the door after him and slid off down the hall with liquid grace, throwing the keys at him without looking backwards. He caught it, glancing back at the guard momentarily before rushing after her. 

"Where are you going?" he hissed at her sharply. She ignored him, but a slight smile curled her lips. He continued to pester her as they weaved through the oddly empty halls, not encountering one single guard the entire way, besides the occasional green warrior, heads lolling back on the walls, deep asleep. His suspicions began to grow by the time they had passed the second one, and they were fully formed by the time he lost count at thirteen. He sped up and stood in front of her, blocking her way. She stopped obligingly, raising a single eyebrow questioningly.

"Where are you going? And what did you do to those trainees?" He asked, severely pissed off, now. She glanced at the nearest one dismissively.

"Mild sleeping charms," She said, before slipping around him and continuing her journey around the prison. Harry stood still in surprise before turning and running a few steps to catch up to her. 

"I didn't know you could do magic," He almost protested.

"There is a lot about me you do not know." He inwardly noted that this was entirely true. In fact, there was even less that he _did _know about her than what he knew about "jumpers", a human thing he had heard of briefly in lessons.

"Did you use it on the guard outside your door, too?" He asked dryly. She spared him a backwards glance, eyebrow raised. 

"The room was enchanted so that I couldn't." Ah, and there he went again, stating the obvious. He had even heard that being told to him before, vaguely. She turned a sharp corner and slipped out of a door almost before Harry could follow. A flash of lightning illuminated her upturned face, drenched in water, a small smile illuminating the dark corners of her face. Her straight hair trailed down almost to the ground, slowly being weighted by the water into a straighter, darker sheen, clashing dramatically with her skin. She glanced at Harry momentarily, and smirked. 

"I'll be in touch!" she called mock-cheerily. Then she jumped, impossibly high, into the nearest tree, blowing a kiss to Harry's shocked, wet face.

"SHE WHAT?" Quiet, calm, controlled Rilla yelled in surprise, jumping up and flailing her arms and legs sporadically as she clutched vainly at the air for a handhold. She land somewhat shakily on the ground, glaring at the recruit before her. He cowered a little, standing slightly behind his amused senior officer.

"Um, she escaped?" He asked uncertainly. The deceptively small, teal-haired woman could be scary, especially when she was pacing in front of you, looking murderous. The other six members of the council of seven, whose meeting had been interrupted to bring the news, looked various degrees of amused and sympathetic. A tall, willowy woman with honey-brown hair and amber eyes looked at the recruit with complete sympathy, before turning to glance reproachfully at a pair of twins beside her who were hard-pressed to contain their laughter. They were identical, with dark, curly hair and mirthful brown eyes. Beside them was a petite woman with serious blue eyes and mousy-brown hair, looking over a bunch of notes with twitching lips. A blonde man with a mischievous expression paid no attention to the pacing woman, instead turning toward the last man at the table, who was beginning to look almost as agitated as Rilla, though in a more controlled way. He sat beside Rilla' empty seat, which completed the ring around the circular table. 

"And how, exactly, did she manage this if she couldn't do magic and her cell was firmly locked with the keys on the outside?" Rilla asked, fuming. Her sapphire eyes smoldered at the young recruit, just daring him to tell a lie. He flinched and shuffled uncomfortably. Quickly, he mumbled something under his breath, ducking his head. Rilla raised her glare to meet the older officer's eyes and lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.

"He says that someone stole the key from him," He informed the pacing woman, suddenly serious. An eyebrow quirked skeptically. 

"So who stole it?" The recruit cleared his throat nervously. 

"Well, I think it was the Prince," he admitted hesitantly after a long pause.

The room erupted into immediate chaos.

Clean, fresh air filled her lungs, and she sighed in pleasure. The mountain scent was heavenly to her sensitive nose, and she gulped it down in deep breaths that intoxicated her with the taste of her own freedom. The City of Aalyyra, which she had been captured in, was beautiful, to be sure, but she found that she could not appreciate its beauty under the oppressive haze of her capture. The walls that shone like spun gold in the sunlight outside of her window were dulled by her morose mood. The blue sky that glimmered as bright as any jewel she had ever seen was transformed into cloudy grey whenever she saw it. True, she had been made by humans, and kept in the captivity of her own drugged body for months until she was completed, but that made her yearn for freedom even more. Taking one more blissful breath, she decided that she needed to recover her weapons, and that meant returning to the city once more. She glanced back at the glistening star of Aalyyra far away on the horizon and smiled. Perhaps she would even make her promised visit to the Princeling.

Rilla stormed into the halls of the magnificent Grand Palace, not noticing the awe-inspiring moving murals on the walls in her anger. Briefly searching for Harry's aura, she stilled, and then continued as she found it in his room. She had been entirely to easy on Harry in the past, and he was now going to experience her wrath. Turning the last corner in record time, she gave a curt nod to the two guards posted at the outer doors to the main suite and threw open the enormous double doors with a burst of wandless elf magic. Harry sat inside, along with a small pile of weapons and poison vials that Rilla hardly noticed. He turned to look at her and smiled a little unsurely. Then he noticed her expression, and his smile disappeared quickly. His eyes widened comically. His mouth opened a bit to protest at whatever she was accusing him of. His hand went limp and the sword he had been about to place on the pile clattered to the floor. All in all, he looked shocked and panicked.

"Did you take the key to the assassin's cell into her room?" She demanded. His head hung as he realized for the twelfth time how stupid he had been. 

"Yes," He admitted. 

"Do you realize how stupid that was?" She snarled. Surprise flooded his face for an instant before anger replaced the flickered emotion. 

"Of course I do! She escaped."

"Exactly! This is exactly why I didn't want you going alone!" The turquoise-hared elf nearly shrieked. 

"Why, because you knew it was only a matter of time before I messed up?" He questioned, half-hurt, half-furious. 

"No! Because she's an assassin and I don't trust her! It was only a matter of time before she took advantage of you!" His face hardened.

"Am I that easy to take advantage of?" He said, dangerously low. She gave him a deadpan look. 

"You're thirteen, and you've led a mostly sheltered life since you arrived here. She's an assassin who's probably killed thousands of people, of course she would find you easy to take advantage of!" Her eyes flashed. 

"Actually, I haven't killed that many yet, I'm only a year old," A low, amused voice interrupted them. They turned in unison to see the missing assassin standing in the open balcony doorway. She gave them a mocking wave. 

"Hello!"

AN: Sorry for taking this long, but this chapter was like walking through sinking sand! You can all cheer, my faithful readers, for the next chapter will be out sooner. The occasion: I reached 1000 hits!

See ya soon! blows kiss

Toodles! Sabrina


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